The Room
by MorningToGlory
Summary: A story untold during the fourth year. Harry and Draco have a place no one knows of where they can care for one another. HPDM slash warning: abuse
1. Chapter 1

Harry tried to chew his food slowly, to remain some sort of semblance of calm, collected and just eating the Welcome Feast like everyone else. It was an easier charade here. Here at Hogwarts. Here at home. Not to imply that his stay with the Weasley's wasn't wonderful. The rambunctious crowd kept him constantly entertained and Mrs. Weasley heaped enough servings on to his plate to satisfy Hagrid (servings which Ron gratefully finished for him when Molly turned her back). Being surrounded by people who actually liked you was always a welcome change to Privet Drive. Unfortunately the unrelenting noise of nine Weasley kept Harry on edge. At the Dursley's, Harry had only ever known two volumes; cold silence or violent rage. Needless to say, he preferred the silence. It seemed ridiculous for him to feel as if he would come to harm while at the Burrow, but old habits die heard. Harry had known little but self-preservation for the first eleven years if his life. Not even the comforts of Hogwarts had yet to break him of his constant vigilance. After all, even under the protection of Dumbledore, Harry's life had been threatened every year since he began attending the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Even now, during the Welcome Feast, Harry was cognizant of all his surroundings. He was well aware that a large breakfast would be served here tomorrow, but Harry had memorized the placement of the easiest food items to stow away. When no one was looking he would wrap up the leftovers to keep in his nightstand. From there he would bring some light snacks with him to class or to practice. None of his room mates ever noticed his constant supply of food, which suited Harry just fine. Not that he would ever consider not sharing if asked, but over a decade of malnourishment left Harry suspicious of his next meal.

Harry was also more than aware that the Professors seemed thoroughly agitated. He surveyed the High Table's occupants and took a mental note that most of them were checking their watches or shooting glares of anticipation at Dumbledore, who sat as calmly as ever. He catalogued their out of the ordinary behavior. Not even Snape would actually strike a student, Harry was ever aware of adult temperament.

Lastly Harry noticed Draco Malfoy. The blonde's usual air of confidence seemed shaken, noticeable by no one else, not even the Slytherins. Also unnoticed by his housemates was Draco's odd new habit of putting as little weight onto his right arm as possible.

_Sprained _thought Harry _That is definitely a sprained wrist. _Harry was sure about it. He knew more than enough about sprained appendages. There was nothing he could do about it now though. Dumbledore was standing to give a speech and Harry was interested to learn what had been making the professors so irritable, but before the Professor's waved away their meal, Harry snuck a few bread rolls into his pocket.

*_*_*_*_*

"Bugger off, Potter" Draco heard the door close and the footsteps draw near. Apparently his Malfoy drawl and cold demeanor had loss some of its effectiveness. He would have to work on that.

"If you didn't want to see me, you wouldn't have come here." Harry was right, but in no way did that mean Draco had to concede. He lifted himself off the plush red couch, careful to use only his left hand, and stood almost toe to toe, gray to green eye with his childhood nemesis.

"Must I remind you yet again that _I _discovered this room first? That _I _have a right to come here regardless of what fancy _you _have built in your head about mewanting to see you." Draco held his stare until Harry dropped his gaze. For a moment Draco thought perhaps his words may have penetrated the Gryffindor's arrogant shell, until he realized that Potter was just staring at his swollen, right wrist.

"It's sprained." Harry stated.

"No"

"He did that, didn't he?"

"No"

"How long ago?"

Draco sighed. _There's no use in lying_.

"The day before yesterday. He said I was being snarky at Flourish and Blotts. I told him I wasn't. He pushed me down the Grand Staircase, well he dragged me over to it first and POTTER! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!? I am FINE!" Draco pulled his arm away, but it was too late. A cool sensation ran through his once throbbing wrist as the swelling began to lessen.

"You wouldn't stand a chance in Quidditich against me with a wrist the size of a quaffle," Harry looked up with a small smile across his face, "I was just evening the playing field. It wouldn't be a victory if I won unfairly."

"I'll let you know Potter," Draco tried to sneer, but the already triumphant look on Harry's face caused him to smirk instead, "that I could beat you with both wrists tied behind my back"

"You should try that method…_Malfoy_, because the whole two free hands and a pricy broom strategy has yet to work."

Draco feigned insulted as he sat back down on the couch but looked up and grinned.

"No, everything healed naturally at the Weasley's. I ended my stay in Little Whinging fairly early this year and mostly unscathed. Just a few bruises here and there. Oh, and Dudley may have cracked one of my ribs the day I got back, right here," Harry gestured to his left side, "but nothing more than that."

"A cracked rib? Do you want me to check it out?" Draco reached for Harry's robe. It bothered him how flippantly Harry referred to his injuries. Harry quickly pulled away from Draco's hands.

"Harry. Ribs don't heal well on their own. Just let me…"

"No."

Draco sighed. Harry was hard to argue with, but poorly mended ribs were harder to fix.

"Harry…" Draco kept his voice coolly Slytherin, "let me tell you what is going to happen. As you know, we are in a Wizarding school, which is a hazard to anyone's health. At some point this year you are going to fall of your broomstick, or have a potions accident, or get attacked by a reincarnate of You-Know-Who while trying to save the world. Regardless of how it happens you _will_ end up in the Hospital Wing and Madame Pompfry _will_ notice that you have an un-magically mended rib and then she will detain you in hideous pajamas with ugly blue stripes until she gets a sufficient explanation out of you."

Draco took a deep breathe, "or you could just let me check out the rib for you and heal it if it hasn't done so on it's own. You won't even have to take off your shirt." Harry shifted uncomfortably on the couch, his vibrant green eyes studying his work weathered hands.

"Well," the Brunette whispered. Draco leaned in to listen, "Well, maybe it wasn't _a _rib. Maybe it could have been a few. Maybe the injury might have been agitated and I tried to heal myself Draco, really I did but…" but Draco's finger was already up, cutting Harry off.

"I know," and Draco did know. Harry couldn't heal himself. "Out of the robe and arms up." Harry shrugged off his robe and paused. After a deep breathe he unbuttoned his outer shirt leaving on only a light one made of cotton. Draco slowly scooted forward and placed his hands on Harry's sides as Harry lifted his own arms. Being as gentle as possible Draco felt along Harry's ribcage. Regardless of his light touch, Harry still flinched and screwed his eyes shut. Dismay poured over Draco's countenance that even this caused such a reaction from the brave Gryffindor.

Draco knew that to anyone else this would look strange, but it wasn't like that. This is how it had been for years. There was a familiar feeling to methodically checking Harry's body for injuries caused over the summer. Draco's finger tips counted one, two, three ribs that had been cracked and that had yes healed, but not perfectly, leaving ridges where there ought not be. He also noticed that regardless of Harry's stay at the burrow, the boy lacked the normal amount of fat for a young man. Lastly Draco's fingers strayed partially on to Harry's back where he could feel the raised, scarred skin. Draco could picture the white and pink lines that crossed The-Boy-Who-Lived's body. The scars were probably invisible now though, Harry almost always kept them under a dillusionment charm.

"Don't. Please." A small whimper had escaped Harry's lips and Draco was brought back to reality as he quickly retracted his hands.

Draco cleared his throat, "There were three ribs cracked. The bones didn't heal completely straight, but…_Osseo_ _Rection_. Does that feel better?" Harry nodded dolefully as Draco put away his wand.

Embarrassed silence filled the room as the two boys shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"So…disappointed you can't enter the TriWizard Cup?" Draco chuckled at the sudden scowl he received from Harry. "What? Don't you want eternal glory?"

"Shove it, Draco." But Harry's voice was light, "No, I'm glad there is an age limit. Now no one can expect me to compete. Ron's dead disappointed though."

"Of course the Weasel is disappointed. Just think what five hundred galleons could…" but Draco never finished the sentence. Harry was on his feet, hands clenched. Draco always forgot how sensitive these loyal Gryffindors could be about their friendships, especially Harry. Malfoy's don't apologize so he did his best to convey a sorry look.

Harry sighed, "Speaking of Ron, he's probably wondering where I am" and he turned towards the door. Draco didn't stop him, but before leaving Harry glanced back.

"I know we both have an image to uphold, but you can try not being so nasty."

"You can try not being so noble." Harry sighed and Draco knew nothing outside of this room would change, not his year.

"Potter. I'll see you soon?" Harry just waved without turning around and the door closed.

Draco laid back down on the couch and let his mind wander to their first encounter here.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A second-year Draco sat in the corner of an unfamiliar room in his all familiar school feeling all too familiar pain. He had accomplished his original goal of making it through the Welcome Feast without anyone suspecting anything, yet on his way to the Slytherin common room he had lost his cool. Draco had split off from his housemates and ran up a random staircase, away from the dungeons. He took the first left and then a right and was about to take another right when Ms Norris spotted him. A quick decision to enter a rarely used classroom left him face to face with a portrait of Uric the Oddball. The epoch would not speak to him, instead insisted through the use of wild gestures and flatulent sound effects that Draco should peek behind him. A simple red door is what Draco found leading him into his now sanctuary,

The room showed signs of abandonment, a layer of dust covered every surface. A plush red couch sat in the middle on top of a garish rug. Empty portraits lined the wall, their inhabitants probably wandered away out of boredom only to never return. It seemed to be an old teacher's office. Most of the classrooms had them. The couch looked comfortable but Draco couldn't find the energy to lift himself off the ground. No, this was fine. He was safe and alone and as much as he despised himself for it a few tears began to well up in his eyes.

"Malfoy?" Draco spun around shocked and lifted his wand defensively.

"Potter! What the bloody hell are you doing here?" He used his wandless hand to deftly wipe away any sign of crying and stood quickly to his feet. "Following me? Trying to sneak up and attack?"

"Well, yes but not…" Harry began to stutter out an explanation but Draco wasn't in the mood to hear one.

"I knew it! Thought you'd try and duel me where no teachers were, huh?" Harry was shaking his head but Draco ignored the boy's arguments. "Just because you're famous doesn't mean you have to right to just _follow _people Potter. And how cowardly…trying to hex me when I am not paying attention!"

"No I just…"

"I don't want to hear your excuses Potter! _Furnunculus_!" Draco shouted his hex but was not fast enough.

"_Protego! Finite Incantem!" _Draco ducked but was unable to block Harry's spell. Confusion fell upon Draco's countenance. _Finite Incantem _was not a dueling hex, it simply ended spells. What was Potter playing at? It wasn't until the warm sensation which had settled on his face all night had faded away that Draco realized Harry manuever. The look on his nemesis's face confirmed Draco's suspicions. Harry would be able to see the two deep black eyes and the obvious broken nose that adorned the young Slytherin's face.

It happened fast. He didn't think.

His hands were around Harry's neck, whose toes were dangling inches from the ground. Harry, whose back was against a stone wall, made not a sound as Draco's furious fingers dug further into his throat.

He didn't even kick.

Draco realized how light the Gryffindor was. It took almost no effort to keep his raised.

He didn't flail around.

Draco realized how the bright green eyes just stared into his, the only part of Harry's body revealing how panicked the young boy was. And in them Draco could see himself. himself and his father.

He let Harry drop and they simultaneously reached the floor. Draco scooted back into his previous corner.

"I just strangled the Boy-Who-Lived. I am going to die" Draco muttered to the ceiling.

Harry cleared his throat, "No. It's fine…"

"I'll do anything. Please don't tell Dumbledore, I can't get expelled." Again, Draco spoke only to the ceiling, not wanting to look at the too light boy sitting across from him.

"I won't. I won't say anything." Harry affirmed Draco and Draco believed him. The noble, brave Gryffindor didn't sound angry or even self-sacrificing. It was odd, if Draco didn't know better he would say Harry seemed resolved to being strangled by his school enemy. Finally Draco peeked down at Harry. He found the raven-haired boy looking down at his too small hands. As if he could feel Draco's stare, Harry lifted his head and muttered. "_Episky"._

Draco could feel his nose straitening and his swollen eyes returning to their usual size and shape and he assumed, color.

"Thanks," and Draco wanted to leave it at that. He wanted to stand and leave the room and never return and never think of this encounter again, but curiosity got the best of him and he had to ask, "How did you know I was wearing a glamour charm?"

A small chuckle escaped Harry's lips. Eyes still on his fingers he spoke."Oh, it wasn't a very well placed charm. The colouring was all off and your eyes weren't shifting right. I know a good deal about glamour charms." Draco caught the brief look that crossed Harry's face. The pursed lips, the tensing of the shoulders. The boy had said too much.

"_Finite Incantem_" Draco hurriedly said before Harry could raise a shield, but there was no visible change. No swollen nose, no blackened eyes. The same intact, if only too skinny, Harry sat in front of Draco, until the brunette raised his head to shoot a pleading look towards the blonde.

A swell of black, purple and blue riddled Harry's neck. Large fingerprints decorated almost every inch of skin from the boy's all too protruding collarbone to his jaw line. For an instant Draco thought he had caused this. His hands, afterall, had lived briefly in those very spots, but the faded yellow bruises beneath the black ones told him differently. Someone else had done this, over a long period of time. And Harry, to have remained silent whilst Draco's fingers ravaged over such bruises, must be quite tolerant already of this pain.

Harry's hand moved quickly to his throat, "It's nothing. Really"

Nothing? Draco had been beaten, but his Father would never strangle him or endanger his only heir's life. How could Harry have the audacity to say this was nothing? "Why don't you just heal yourself, Potter?"

"Can't." Harry shrugged. "See." Harry raised his wand and muttered _Episky_, but nothing happened. Draco didn't fail to notice the lack of enthusiasm in which the boy cast the spell. He barely even twitched his wand.

"It really isn't a big deal, Draco"

"Too hell it is Potter. Where'd you get those?"

"I'm clumsy." The pathetic automatic response made Draco snort.

"Yes, I'm sure you just tripped onto someone's beefy hands. Now tell me. What happened?" But Harry just shrugged and looked away. The nonchalant attitude that Harry had all of a sudden adopted infuriated Draco. How could the Boy-Who-Lived just accept these injuries?

"Harry. You are going to tell me who did this to you or…" Draco said firmly.

"No. No, I'm fine, really" Harry interrupted.

"_Or_…or I'm going to the Hospital Wing right now and grabbing that fool Pompfry and dragging her here and…" but Draco never got to finish his sentence. A loud clank came from the door and the deadbolt abruptly shut on its own. The lights above began to flicker menacingly and Draco brought his gaze down to Harry to see his hair waving wildly about in a non-existent wind. His green eyes shown brilliantly and a rough voice escaped his mouth.

"You. Will. Not. Tell. You will stay here. You will stay here until I let you out…"

Draco attempted to scoot back farther but the stone wall would not budge, "What are you doing Potter?"

"You will stay here until I say so. And if I here you cry, so help me God," Harry's voice deepened, "You'll regret it you little _freak…_oh god." And with that Harry began to sob.

A cry like none Draco had ever heard escaped the brave Gryffindor's pale, quivering lips. Then another and another until the room was filled with fearful heaves and intermittent whimpers. A minute passed before the pain in Draco's fingers, which were trying to cleave into the stone floor, became too much. The lights had stopped flickering and a subtle click told Draco that the door was once again unlocked, but he had no intentions of leaving. Not now.

"Harry?" Draco whispered.

"I..I..uh…'m sorry" a small voice said between sobs.

"It's ok, but what happened?"

"I'm sorry. I made the freaky things happen. I'm sorry I was a freak around you." Harry lifted his head and Draco's heart fell as he saw the red rimmed eyes plead for forgiveness.

"Freak?" Harry flinched at the word. "No, no. I mean, the things you said, well I won't lie Potter, they did scare me. But accidental magic happens, I shouldn't have upset you like that." Draco reached his hand across the space, but thought it better to not touch the shaken boy.

"No. I'm not allowed to let that magic come out. It's bad." Harry ducked his face to his arms again. Draco grew more confused. Bad? Accidental magic happened to everyone. It was something you just had to grow to control.

"It's not necessarily bad, Pot…Harry. It just happens." But Harry kept shaking his head murmuring, "it's bad to be a freak. Freaks get the punishments they deserve".

"Who told you that Harry?" Draco didn't get a response, but he wasn't going to let this go, "Harry. Answer me. Who told you that?"

"M'Uncle." Harry looked up again, eyes not quite meeting Draco's, "he doesn't like magic. S'not allowed in our house. But when I was little, before I even knew I was a wizard, it sometimes just happened. That's when he started…" Harry took a staggered breath and turned to Draco. Draco gave a reassuring nod.

"He started umm…punishments. A whole method of trying to get me to stop. Sometimes he would try to hit it out of me or starve it out. His new method is trying to well…" Harry gestured towards his neck.

"Oh," was all Draco managed to say.

"But that's just how it is," Harry continued as if Draco wasn't there anymore, "Freaks get punished and freaks do chores and freaks only eat when they aren't being freaky and if freaks get hurt then they don't get to go to the doctors. They just stay hurt. They don't deserve to get better." The realization of why Harry couldn't heal himself hit Draco's already heavy heart. Waving a wand and saying some words doesn't cast a spell. The intent must be there. A drive for the magical energy to be released and shift the world around it must be present in the Wizard. If Harry truly didn't believe he should be healed there is no way he could heal himself.

Something had changed in Draco. Obviously. There was a complete loss of hate for the shattered boy who sat in front of him. The year before, he considered Harry nothing but a spoiled prat, worshipped by the entire wizarding world. Nothing could have prepared him for this, but he knew what needed to be done. Harry would not tell Madam Pompfry or Dumbledore or his even his beloved Mudblood and Weasel. Had Harry not stumbled in on Draco, no one would no of his secret life, of his secret self. It was a large burden for a twelve year old to carry on his own and Draco could not sit idly by and watch Harry bear it alone.

Draco scooted towards the crumpled Harry, closing the distance between the two. "Shh, it's ok" he crooned and gently slipped a hand behind Harry's neck. The small brunette's entire body went rigid, but Draco ignored this as he brought his wand to the worst of the bruises.

"It's ok. It's ok. You know my dad, he holds me to pretty high standards." Draco spoke and as he quietly muttered some healing charms, Harry began to relax. He let his head fall backwards to give Draco more room to work. "Actually the standards are fairly ridiculous. My nose…well right before we left for the Hogwart's Express he told me he was expecting me to be the top of my class this year. I tried to explain how regardless of how much a study Granger was just…smarter. He wasn't happy about that."

Draco let his hand on the back of Harry's neck slowly rub the muscles in small circles. He continued to talk quietly as he healed. "It's always been that way. Of course, I've always had my fill to eat and I've never really had chores, but…but I've never really had love, either. Just thought you'd know, you're not alone."

A small sigh of content escaped Harry's lips and Draco found it hard to keep hold of his wand, but he had barely healed half the bruises. He took a centering breath and continued his work. When all the bruising in the front had faded he gently tipped Harry's head forward to take on the few deep purple spots that colored his patient's nape.

"_Episky. Episky. Epi-_" Draco's spells fell flat in his mouth as the back of Harry's shirt slipped a bit. Beneath Harry's school uniform, angry red lines littered the young boy's skin. Harry sat up abruptly and looked Draco knowingly in the eyes.

"I won't say it's nothing"

"Good" Draco replied warily.

"But you've helped me enough tonight. Do me one last favor and just forget whatever you saw." Harry gave a Draco a determined stare. The green eyes bore deep, leaving the blonde no choice but to nod in acceptance.

"It's late" Harry muttered.

"I know." Draco agreed.

"My friends..."

"My friends…"

"Can't know…"

"But we can…" Draco didn't want to finish the sentence, didn't actually want this encounter to end, regardless of how tired he was. The healing charms had drained his energy.

Harry nodded, "As long as no one knows."

"No one will know." Draco helped Harry to his feet and opened the door. "You first." Harry slipped out, giving Draco just one fleeting glance before he disappeared down the hall.

Draco took a deep breathe as his mind tried to wrap around what had just happened to his world.


	3. Chapter 3

The sweat on Harry's hand made the doorknob a difficult task.

"Shit," he cursed as his fingers failed once more to turn the brass obstacle. Defeated, he banged on the heavy wood and waited. The door swung full open to reveal a manic smile across a pale face. Without pretense Draco's arms were wrapped around him and a stream of chatter exploded from the blonde's mouth.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Draco exclaimed, stealing Ron's favorite line. "You were brilliant! A dragon! You out flew a dragon!" It was all Harry could do to move the still attached Slytherin from the doorway and shut himself in as the compliments continued, "I won't lie, I was sure you were dead. I mean a dragon, Harry! A bloody Dragon!"

Harry smirked just a bit, Draco's cool demeanor had faded and he would hate to hear it, but his rambling sounded much like Ron's excited, post-challenge rant. Of course Harry would never tell him, anyway there were much more pressing matters at the moment; firstly, a severe lack of air in Harry's lungs.

"Draco…need to breathe," Harry managed to get out and immediately Draco let go. They both shuffled awkwardly for a moment. Even in their intimate room, hugging wasn't a common occurrence, and Harry didn't quite know how to react. Obviously the Slytherin noticed his sudden breech of personal space as he brushed himself and recomposed his affect. Still smiling though, Draco sat and turned to Harry.

"Draco, it's not what it seems", but Draco proceeded with his adulating ramblings.

"Potter! It is! I mean, I won't lie, I thought you were ruined. You came out with nothing but a wand and I've seen your transfiguration skills, they're to be considered lacking. But _Accio_! I can't believe you used _Accio_! And flew…you should have seen Krum's face! He…" Harry's nails dug into the couch as he attempted to block out the mindless chatter. The chipper blonde continued, regardless of the grimace now spreading on Harry's face. _Shut up, shut up, shut up. _The mantra continued, as did Draco.

"Stop!" Harry's hadn't meant to yell, but at least now there was the desired silence,"please just stop". He turned to Draco, whose face had fallen. It was rare to see the Slytherin in such an unadulterated joyful state and the sudden loss made it almost not worth the chastisement.

"…just, please." Harry leaned his head back. "I just need a break from the celebrating." With his eyes closed he could concentrate on Draco's slowed, deep breathes.

The silence stretched on, finally a delicate hand was placed on Harry's shoulder.

"You were wonderful, really"

"Thanks"

"I'm glad you're not dead."

"Duly noted." Harry knew he was being short. The gentle contact was too much and he stood, leaving Draco's hand to fall to the seat. His mind was racing as he circumnavigated the couch and wandered to a bookshelf along the walls. He would have to take it slowly. There were so many things he wanted to say, but how and when he said them could affect so much. Instead he remained silent and traced the spines of a few ancient, out-dated texts. The _Nine Uses for Dragons Blood_ sat next to a copy _of The Wizards Atlas: 1842_, both dusty and dilapidated. To calm himself, Harry traced the gilded titles, ignoring the growing silence.

"It's worth celebrating you know. You were amazing," But Harry just shook his head and tried to keep his eyes and mind fixated on the fading covers. He was almost too tired to explain just yet. Draco deserved to know though.

"I'm almost positive that someone," this was reality, he couldn't hide from it, "I'm almost positive that someone is trying to kill me. Well, there's always someone trying to kill me apparently, but someone here." He turned to Draco and met his grey eyes. The blonde's pale lips were pursef and Harry would give anything to not have to break the silence. Nothing about this was going to be easy.

"I didn't enter the Triwizard competition." The words felt stale in his mouth from having said them so many times, "I didn't want this_. I don't_ want this. Ron…Ron's jealous and Hermione's worried and the rest of Gryffindor…they want a hero like usual. They'd be crushed if I lost. Then there's the rest of the school who would like nothing more than to see me crash and burn."

"That's not true, Harry!" Draco straightened up in protest.

"The buttons," Harry took in a deep breathe, "You made them, didn't you?"

Draco's face dropped, then his head, then a hand ran through his hair. It was enough of an answer for Harry, who began to leave.

"Harry wait…"

"No!" Harry spun around and clenched his teeth. "No, don't you get it? I didn't want to be in this Tournament! I don't want to face dragons. I don't want to be the center of attention and yet…and yet here I am amidst all of it. And then you…you go and you, you be a Slytherin. I know we can't be friends out there, but…do you always have to make things harder?"

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, a sure sign of remorse, but Harry was determined to stay strong. Well, as strong as one could be in his current position, as he struggled to remain standing. Just leave. But he had to hear what Draco would say.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Harry. They weren't my idea. Miles Blethchley thought of them and came to me because he knew I could figure out how to charm them. He asked me in front of the other Slytherins, I couldn't say no." Draco reopened his eyes and Harry recognized the pleading look of forgiveness.

"Yes you could have," The Gryffindor squared his shoulders even though dizziness had begun to set in and the world was spinning quite a bit. Draco's face became blurry, but Harry could nonetheless see his doleful eyes turn angry.

"No. No I couldn't. I have a role to play Harry. Saying no would have brought upon suspicion. You don't understand how what goes on in the common room affects everyone in my house. Everything ends up in our parents' ears, everything I do reaches his," Draco shrugged and Harry could feel his resolve shake. "If he found out I missed some opportunity to harass you, he'd be curious. Curious and angry."

Harry stayed silent. _It would be easy to stay angry right now, _a small side of him could imagine the relief of just walking out the door. He hung his head instead. Draco was right and as nice it would be to have someone to blame for how terrible he currently felt, this wasn't the cause of his biggest pain. In fact his biggest pain had slowly begun to spread as Harry began to sweat and sway. His initial instinct of a bite to the tongue to keep awake did nothing. With all of his might he made the few steps back to Draco on the couch.

"Harry?" Harry could make out the concern in Draco's voice, but grey began to line the current vision of his own hands in his lap. "Harry? What's wrong?"

"Mmmm. I think I have a burn. I know…I know I have a burn…" The pain that he had tried to ignore the last two hours was blooming with a vengeance.

"What? What! Madam Promfry should have healed you immediately after the task! Dragon burns are venomous!" Pale hands grabbed Harry's wrists and turned them over as if to find conspicuous wounds missed during the argument.

Harry took a deep breathe, trying to center himself for the explanation. His head felt light and having been the victim of fainting many times in his life, knew his minutes were few.

"My back. The disillusionment charm hid it. Can I lie down?" With great strength Harry lifted his head enough to see an astonished Draco's arm rising up, to guide him slowly to the couch. The velvet felt cool beneath his cheeks and the grey consuming him, a relief. Somewhere in the distance Draco's voice told him to hold on, that he'd be right back, but Harry didn't respond. There was just dark.

Draco took a deep breathe to steady himself. The dash down to the dungeons had been relatively easy as he tried to stay one step ahead of his panic. With as much confidence he could muster, he knocked on Professor's Snape door. The minute his Godfather answered though, Draco had felt the little color in his face drain as he asked for a Dragon Burn Balm. Snape had stood there for the longest minute of Draco's life, saying nothing. Then he left and returned shortly with a small bottle. His only response: _Heal any abrasions after applying, not before._

The sprint back up to the fourth floor was much harder as the Slytherin's mind raced. He partially wanted to scream at Harry for being so dense as to wait hours until mentioning the poison that had been scalded into his skin, but he knew the bold Gryffindor was adamant about his charms and the secrets they concealed. Another whirring part of his brain was berating himself for the pins. If only because the argument they caused cost Harry precious minutes of not being healed. How he had endured the wound for so long was merely a testament to the pain he dealt with his entire life, and the sobering thought made Draco run faster.

Now he sat on the edge of the couch as the unconscious Harry breathed shallowly. With as much delicacy as he could muster, Draco began to peel off the layers of clothes between himself and the burn. Draco's fingers tingled and his heart raced and he told himself it had only to do with the urgency of the situation, nothing more. After the second shirt, Harry's seemingly infallible skin was bare. One last deep breathe steadied Draco's hands as he firmly cast _Finite Incantatem._

There wasn't time to gasp and take in the sight, but Draco did. There were more important things than grasping the couch for support and looking away, but he did that too. It wasn't a choice, but a mere reaction. Harry's back was splayed with red and blackened skin that had bubbled in placed and broke open in others. It was obviously infected and even more so, painful. It was the thought of this that made Draco gain his bearings and begin the healing process. The salve was applied, slowly and evenly. Draco flinched once as his hand glanced over a large blister, but he chastised himself and continued with no more physical reactions. He did his best to ignore the scars still visible in other areas. Pink lines littered the skin not touched by fire and some wrapped around his ribs, creeping their way to Harry's stomach. Draco knew though that his friend had gone to great lengths to never let any eyes view these and out of respect ignored them the best he could.

After two layers of the balm, Draco got around to fixing any open cuts. There weren't many, but Draco was thorough and after half an hour the blonde was spent. The magic needed to repair Harry had drained him. The trek back to the dungeon seemed so long, and really a healing patient should never be left alone, so Draco made the decision to stay. Just in case Harry awoke, of course, or needed further treatment. The Slytherin did his best to lie down without disturbing the sleeping boy next to him. The couch was large enough that if he was on his side then not much of their bodies would touch. Except his arms were uncomfortable and lacking any open room. Because he had no choice, obviously, Draco laid his head on one, and gently wrapped the other around Harry's waist, and in no time, fell asleep.

AUTHOR'S NOTE! PLEASE READ!

Wow. So more than 2 years later I decided to add another chapter. I know there aren't a lot of people who had read this, but if you do read it in like it, I have a request:

I am sort of stuck and as this is a series of one-shots and isn't supposed to affect the canon plot, I would LOVE some requests or suggestions of what other ages/parts of the canon people want to see brought into this story.

Ok that's all

xoxoM2G


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